As is often the
case with films based on true stories, much was altered for the cinematic story
of courageously inexperienced British ski-jumper, Eddie “The Eagle” Edwards.
Characters were added, events were changed, timelines were skewed, and in some
cases the facts were more outlandish than the fictional screenplay by Sean
Macaulay and Simon Kelton. While one can’t help but wonder what a darker and
more accurate version of this story may have looked like onscreen, Eddie the Eagle easily wins over
audiences with a charming spirit and a pair of magnetic performances. Sometimes
a crowd pleasing feel-good movie is more desirable, especially in the cynical
times we live in.

Millennials have
been called the “entitled generation,” carrying an air of arrogance and
expectation without the benefit of experience or hard work to back it up, and Get a Job is a cinematic enabler for
this infantile mentality. While it does address the egotism of modern college
graduates, the sycophantic screenplay from first-time writers Kyle Pennekamp
and Scott Turpel attempts to lay blame on the encouraging way that this
generation was raised, as though their shitty attitude were the fault of
supportive parents and participation trophies. But rather than following
through with this cynical game of finger-pointing to some actual social
commentary, these amateur screenwriters lazily resort to resolve it with a
mindless young adult wish-fulfillment fantasy. This movie is utter garbage,
made even worse by the talent that was wasted to make it.

Jarhead, the 2005 war film from director
Sam Mendes, is an unlikely movie to build a franchise from. The reception was
mediocre, the action was nonexistent as intentional commentary on the state of
modern warfare, and there was little opportunity for significant characters to
return. Thematically, the sequels don’t even belong in the same category, much
less carrying the same title. They get away with this by carrying over a
supporting character and turning the franchise into mindless action. While it
may not be cut from the same cloth as Jarhead,
it is rather predictable for a straight-to-video sequel.

When the
Discovery Channel reality series “Alaskan Bush People” first aired on
television, many viewers were skeptical of the authenticity. Some theorized
that the family claiming to have lived in the wild for the last 30 years was
merely a group of actors, while others simply didn’t believe the outrageous
claims of survival that they made to the cameras. Personally, I am hesitant to
believe anything in reality television isn’t at least somewhat contrived. Although
I have no reason to believe that this family isn’t related, I also have little
faith that many of the situations in the show aren’t staged to a certain
degree. Even in the trivia section of the series on IMDB.com, the episodes are
referred to as “reenactments” of events taken from Billy Brown’s book. It
automatically raises a red flag when the man claiming to want nothing from
civilization has promoted himself through the publication of books. Others have
found YouTube channels and other websites with other members of the family also
trying to increase their fame.

Kill Your Friends is not outrageous
enough in its violence or dark enough in its tone to give the satire of the
novel it is based on enough edge, despite the screenplay being written by
author John Niven. Worse yet, comparisons are bound to be made with American Psycho, which still feels more
groundbreaking despite being made 16 years earlier than this film. Had director
Owen Harris taken this narrative in another direction, it may have avoided the
comparisons that the material obviously had no chance to live up to, but
instead much of the violence ends up feeling more perfunctory than shocking. There
is potential amongst the differences for some uniquely scathing commentary, but
Kill Your Friends instead unwisely
focuses on the most derivative elements of the narrative.

Much of the
narrative in The Confirmation has
been done previously, and occasionally with far more dedication to realism
(there are moments which bring to mind Vittorio De Sica’s Bicycle Thieves), but it is in the optimistic tone and engaging
performances that this film finds its stride. Like the Oscar nominated film, Nebraska,
which first-time director Bob Nelson wrote the screenplay for, The Confirmation is often equally
hilarious and heartbreaking. Nelson understands as a filmmaker that these two
things need not be mutually exclusive, which grounds the film without drowning
audiences in cynicism and sadness. Some may find the resolution a bit too neat
(especially those expecting the Bicycle
Thieves similarities to play out), and others may find the film’s morality
a bit too flippant. This is a balancing act between two extremes, likely to
leave both sides slightly unsatisfied, while neither outright disappointed. A
few more risks in the narrative may have solved this problem, or it could have
brought the entire house of cards tumbling down.

While I
appreciated the discussion of mental illness and its connection to artistic
creativity within the narrative Touched
with Fire, at times the individual scenarios of the specific plot
overshadow the larger topic. Writer/director Paul Dalio based the film on his
own experiences, and while this brings honesty to the material, it often also
runs the risk of carrying romanticized bias of personal memory. In this case,
some distance from the content may have helped to create a stronger film.
Despite compellingly convincing performances from the lead actors, Dalio’s
narrative often feels aimless at best, and predictably melodramatic at its
worst.